Owner
by AJ92
Summary: We all know what happened to the turtles. But what happened to the boy that dropped that glass jar and lost the baby turtles?


Okay guys, I know it's been a very long time since I've done anything here so I apologize. As a reward I'm just going to give you an entirely new story based off an idea from some wonderful people that voted on my poll that I left for you.

And…. I'm going to give you this story too. So enjoy.

XXX

**Chapter 1**

Dawson Jamison slipped out of the local bar with a strong, firm arm around a slim brunette's waist.

"Oh Dawson, I can't wait to go to your place for some fun." The woman slurred as she stumbled alongside the six foot male.

Dawson rolled his hazel eyes as she ran her hands through his blonde hair. "Yeah, you are not coming to my place to do anything Marissa." Dawson responded in a gruff voice while removing her hands from his head.

"Why not?" the woman known as Marissa whined and pursed her lips in an attempt to look cute.

_Well for one, the sound of your voice is getting on my nerves._ He thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say out loud."Because you're drunk and I'm not the type to take advantage of you." It wasn't a lie.

"Aww, come on." she tripped and would've fallen over if Dawson wasn't holding on.

"No Marissa, I can't do that to you."

"Why not?" she whined again, stomping her feet like a little child who's getting ready to throw a tantrum.

Dawson sighed and refused to answer her. _Just a little bit further Dawson. Once you drop her off, you can go home and pretend this night never happened. _He thought to himself and continued to move forward and that's when he felt like someone was following them. Instinctively he tightened his grip around the stumbling brunette's waist and he moved faster.

"Hey, slow down." Marissa moaned trying desperately to keep up with him in her heels. He continued on and suddenly turned into an alley. He sat Marissa down on the ground and picked up a trashcan lid off the ground. He calmly waited for his pursuers to follow him into the darkened alley.

Exactly as he expected three men walked in holding what looked like knives. He could only tell by the slight glint it gave off from the moonlight. "Perfect." He mumbled and smacked the first one on the head with the lid. The second swished blindly with his knife. Dawson caught his wrist and swiftly twisted it causing him to drop the blade, then finished it off with a punch to the face.

Sudden pain in his right arm caused him to flinch away. The mere sight of blood shocked him, but not enough to actually distract him from the fight. "Son of a-" He growled and charged while using the lid as a shield. He shoved the guy into a wall and was satisfied when he heard a loud crack. He slowly backed away from him and watched the body slump to the floor. "Definitely rookies" he panted.

With a sigh he tossed the lid aside and turned to the woman sitting on the ground. One thing irritated him though… she was sleeping. _What the hell? How can you sleep at a time like this?"_

Dawson moaned.

"I should leave you here." He shook his head. _No, no what am I saying? _He crouched down next to her and scooped her up in his arms. _You're lucky I'm not a jerk. _

Having to carry her the rest of the way wasn't the highlight of his night… well, actually no part of this night was actually good, but at least he didn't have to hear her anymore.

XXX

"Alright guys, let's go home." Leo turned to his after witnessing the young man's fighting skills. They had stopped when they noticed the Purple Dragons. "He seems to be okay."

"The guy's got guts, I'll give him that." Raph added putting his sais away. "Not many people actually fight back." He followed behind his brother.

"You think he'll be okay getting home?" Mikey asked curiously.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Don said.

XXX

Dawson slipped into his apartment and set his keys down on the counter. He immediately went to the birdcage where his pet cockatoo was sitting. "Hey Zeema, how's my pretty girl? Did you miss Daddy?"

Zeema whistled happily and flapped her white wings. "I'll take that as a yes." Dawson yawned loudly and stretched his arms over his head. The dull pain in his arm reminded him that he was injured. "Oh right… you." He glared at the small cut on his upper bicep as if it were a hated enemy. "Goodnight Zeema." Dawson sighed before he shut off the living room light and walked out.

Dawson dragged his feet all the way to his small bathroom and pulled out the necessary supplies to clean his tiny wound, which had already stopped bleeding by the time he got home. Wrapping it up was pretty difficult, but he managed. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and tossed it in the clothes hamper. He then made his way to his bedroom and plopped down on the bed. With a groan he turned over and shut his eyes for the night.

XXX

A beginning to a new story, if you like it then I will continue.


End file.
